


Tea and Irony

by WorstPiesinWesteros



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorstPiesinWesteros/pseuds/WorstPiesinWesteros
Summary: Dudley's urgent invitation to tea forces Harry to grapple with their troubled past and to contemplate an uncertain future.





	1. An Unexpected Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> The Potter universe is my first and most beloved fandom and this is my first original contribution to that world, although these scenes have been percolating in my head for a decade. I know the basic premise underpinning this story has been written about before; but I hope this short piece explores some new aspects of a popular fan idea.

“Harry?”

The dark haired man tensed and gripped the phone tightly as he recognized the voice on the line addressing him. The vintage rotary hardly ever rang, of course. Ginny and Harry only kept it for the few calls they received from Muggle friends and relations; and of course Ginny’s Dad. When Harry had presented him with a simple, black candlestick phone and a phone number three Christmases ago, you’d have thought he’d received all the gold in Gringotts. After one high-pitched ring made Molly jump out of her skin and drop a load of potatoes she had been peeling with a simple levitation charm, she had forbade any incoming calls. But Arthur loved calling Godric’s Hollow. He usually shouted into the earpiece for a few minutes to one of the kids, who happily shouted back. 

But the man on the other end of the line was most definitely not Arthur, nor any other wizard. 

“Dudley?” Harry asked incredulously. The cousins had a distant, awkward relationship at best. They had grown up in the same house, but not in any sense together. Dudley, a selfish, aggressive lump of a boy, had bullied Harry throughout their childhood and teenage years, with the full blessing of his parents, Harry’s Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Learning that Harry was a powerful wizard, when the boys were 11, tempered Dudley’s overt aggression with fear, but it only deepened the whole family’s disdain for Harry and the entire magical community. When the Second Wizarding War reached its height 6 years later, and the Dursleys had to go into hiding for their own safety, Dudley and Harry reached a kind of détente. Dudley seemed to at last appreciate the peril his cousin was facing and dredged up some surprising, long dormant stores of sympathy and goodwill. He actually expressed concern for Harry’s wellbeing and, in his own way, wished Harry well. The two men would never be friends, but after that day they were no longer exactly enemies, either. However, although they peacefully existed on “Christmas card terms,” a phone call out of the blue on a random Thursday was utterly bizarre and unprecedented. 

His brain bouncing uneasily back and forth between Uncle Vernon’s angry, ugly face and Aunt Petunia’s cold, resentful stare, Harry simply blurted out, “Who’s dead?”

“Whaa…what?” Dudley stammered stupidly. “No one. No one’s dead, at least I don’t think so. Why, do you know someone who’s dead?” 

An awkward silence hung between them for a moment. Harry winced slightly and gritted his teeth.

“Oh, sorry, I…er…didn’t mean…” Dudley fumbled, remembering that Harry knew loads of people who were dead, going all the way back to his parents. 

Harry rolled his green eyes. “What’s up Dudley? What do you want?” he asked, a bit more sharply than he meant to. 

“I…um...I want to ask you round for tea.”

“Tea?” Harry repeated flatly. He could think of a dozen things he’d rather do than have tea with Dudley: eat Hagrid’s cooking; sit through one of Hermione’s S.P.E.W. meetings; listen to little Lily’s favorite toy play “The Itsy Bitsy Blast-Ended Skrewt” for the 100th time…

“…and make some sandwiches and of course I’ll buy a cake or something.” Warming to his subject, Dudley rattled on about tea. He seemed to think he could woo Harry with food. “So, um, you will come won’t you? No need to bring anything. Do come over, Harry. Please.” 

Harry sighed inwardly. He remembered a mug of tea left outside his bedroom door several years ago---a kind gesture, at one of the lowest points in Harry’s life, by the most unexpected of people. 

“Sure, Dudley. Sure, I’ll come over for tea.”

“Brilliant!” Dudley exhaled what sounded to Harry like a sigh of relief. “Yes, that’s good,” the Muggle continued, almost to himself. “Let’s say this Saturday at 3:00?”

“Let me just see if Ginny’s free…”

“NO!” Dudley shouted, loudly enough to make Harry jerk his ear back from the receiver. “I mean, um, no need to bother her, right?” he laughed nervously. “Just you, Harry.”

“Okaaaay, just me, then,” Harry agreed, surrendering to the confusion, curiosity and slight concern now swirling in his mind. “Dudley, are you OK?’ he asked.

“Ummmm,” Dudley paused and Harry heard a faint crash in the background. “I…I’ll see you on Saturday, Harry. I have to go now.” Click. 

Harry stood still in the living room, holding the dead receiver in his hand. His scar pointed straight down, as he scrunched up his brow, deep in thought. 

“Who was on the phone?” Ginny asked. 

Harry looked at her dazedly. He hadn’t even heard her come in the room. 

“Dudley.”

“Dudley?” she repeated, her eyebrows arching up in surprise.

“He wants to have tea,” Harry explained, his green eyes wide and blank. 

Before she could stop herself, Ginny unconsciously puckered up her face like she’d just eaten a handful of sherbet lemons. 

Her husband broke into laughter. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to go. He wants to see me alone.”

Ginny opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “Nope, I can’t even pretend I’m not thrilled it’s you rather than us,” she chuckled. 

“Thanks,” Harry replied tartly, with a laugh. 

Ginny grew serious for a moment. “Oh God, do you think your Aunt and Uncle will be there?”

Now Harry’s face registered panicked disgust. He’d been so intent on figuring out why Dudley wanted to speak with him, he hadn‘t even considered the possibility that Petunia and Vernon might be there. 

Their reverie was broken by Albus Severus bounding into the room clutching a toy beaker of frothy, smoking emerald liquid smelling of anise and elderflowers. 

“Mummy, Daddy—do you want to try my Elixir of Doom?” the black-haired boy cried proudly.

Ginny and Harry smiled indulgently at him. They had known their youngest son would enjoy his toy potions set when they bought it for his last birthday; they did not realize he would be utterly enthralled and spend hours concocting his own creations. 

Harry excitedly knelt down to his son and met the boy’s green eyes, identical to his own. “Is this truly an ‘Elixir of Doom’?” he demanded, in mock-seriousness. 

Albus Severus nodded vigorously while suppressing a grin. 

His father tilted his head in mock skepticism. “Will it at least make me break out in spots, turn blue and go temporarily deaf by Saturday?” Harry asked hopefully, eliciting peals of laughter from the child. 

Harry smiled up at Ginny. “If there’s a chance Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will be there, I’ll try anything. “ He shrugged and downed the potion in one gulp.


	2. Dudley In Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry arrives at Dudley's and discovers the true reason behind his Muggle cousin's invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a short chapter but longer ones will follow.

Two days later, having failed to develop any sufficiently remarkable symptoms from his son’s potion that would allow him to ditch tea with his cousin, Harry strolled up the utterly ordinary walkway of Dudley’s unbearably ordinary house. 

“You’re-here-hi-Harry-right-come-in,” Dudley’s words tumbled out of his mouth as he ran a large, careless hand through his close-cropped blond hair and ushered Harry inside. He hadn’t seen his cousin in months and Harry could swear it looked like Dudley had lost a bit of weight. He also looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple of days. 

Buoyed by the absence of his Uncle Vernon’s ostentatious car in the driveway, Harry ventured casually, “So, who else is joining us for tea?”

“Oh no one, it’s just us,” his cousin answered nervously. “Linda is out of town this weekend—a uni friend’s hen do up in Edinburgh.” 

“Um, well, that’s…nice,” Harry replied brightly. Actually, it was very nice. It is said that men marry their mothers and while Dudley’s wife was no Petunia, Linda’s shrill voice and short temper were enough to make Harry relieved to be spared her presence. 

“Yeah,” observed Dudley as he poured boiling water into a couple of mugs. “Just us…and, er, Daisy, of course.” 

“Yes, of course—how is Daisy?” Harry asked, his green eyes darting around for Dudley’s four-year-old daughter, the child Ginny had privately dubbed Daisy the Destroyer. The last time Harry’s family had been over, for Daisy’s fourth birthday, the girl had thrown cake at her cousin James, hidden a garden snake in Albus Severus’ backpack and had an epic meltdown when Linda cut her off after her third glass of sugary punch. To be fair, Albus Severus ended up making a pet of the snake and naming it Nigel; nevertheless, Daisy was a spoiled, aggressive, unpleasant child. 

“Well, actually,” Dudley began, before being interrupted by the subtle but clear notes of “London Bridge Is Falling Down” floating down and filling the room. Both men’s eyes were automatically drawn upward as the grating recorded music settled around them. Dudley gulped softly. He seemed on edge but not surprised. “She must be up from her nap,” the large man observed. “Come on, Harry,” he said, putting his mug down and heading for the stairs. 

Harry followed, silently cursing his luck that he arrived right as Daisy was waking up, but hopeful that Dudley would soon be shutting off whatever toy was generating the annoying song. 

But first, the music only grew louder as they approached Daisy’s room. Her father grasped the doorknob and paused. He studied the door for a moment before turning to Harry, his eyes lost and pleading. He signaled to Harry to be silent as he quietly opened the door. 

Daisy, still clad in pink flowered pyjamas from her nap, sat in the middle of her room, her back to the door. Her blonde hair, the same shade as Petunia’s, hung down her back, tangled from sleep. Her chubby toddler fists were raised shoulder height, her body still and rigid in concentration while a stuffed unicorn, two squishy chickens, a plush giraffe and, the source of the song, a tweed-clad teddy bear, slowly circled her overhead, a good four feet off the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS very much for reading!


	3. Electric Daisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry offers guidance to the youngest magical member of the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

Harry’s mouth fell open as he stared stupidly at the little girl. He had not known what to expect when his Muggle cousin had invited him to tea but he had not expected this. Eyes wide, he turned to Dudley to see his cousin looking ashen and helpless as he watched his daughter. Adjusting to the shock, Harry could actually feel it now—the low hum of magic emanating from Dudley’s child, permeating the room. Dudley and Linda would not feel it of course, but a witch or wizard in a primarily Muggle space could usually feel one of their own nearby—it was a change in the air, a subtle vibration. As Harry watched the toys’ steady, even progress above Daisy’s head, he suddenly remembered an 11 year old Ron struggling to levitate a feather with a simple Wingardium Leviosa charm. 

Daisy was executing tricky, complicated charms combining sustained levitation and measured movement. Without a wand. Harry knew exactly how much effort it took to master this kind of magic. Very young witches and wizards nearly always manifested their powers long before entering Hogwarts, but even in wizarding families, it often took the form of uncontrolled and sometimes random bursts—a shattered glass, a bouncing resistance to falls; sometimes kids managed simple cleaning spells with a parent’s help, or maybe (if they were Harry’s eldest son) turned their sibling’s hair blue for a prank. But Harry knew it was rare for such a young child, raised in a Muggle family, to execute the kind of magic he was witnessing now. And he could tell from Dudley’s face that Daisy had done this before. 

Suddenly, as if sensing his thoughts, Daisy whipped around to face Harry and Dudley; the airborne menagerie fell to the ground. Mercifully, the song stopped when the bear crashed on the floor. 

“Sorry Daddy!” she cried. Her tiny chin wobbled and her bottom lip stuck out. 

“It’s OK, love,” Dudley rushed to reassure her. “It’s OK for Harry to see.” 

His eyes darting uneasily from his daughter to his cousin, Dudley explained in the unavoidably patronizing tone reserved for speaking simultaneously to and about toddlers, “We know not to ‘play’ like this in front of Mummy…or Nana or Granddad…or anyone else…but…Harry can see it.” Dudley met Harry’s green eyes. “Right, Harry?” he addressed his cousin, nodding slightly, his eyes urgent and expectant now. 

Harry blinked rapidly and shook himself out of his daze. “Yeah,” he said automatically. “Yes. Yes, er, sure.” 

He crossed the room and knelt down on the floor in front of the little girl. 

“Daisy, it’s fun to…play…like this, isn’t it?” Harry asked gently.

She giggled. “Look, look!” she cried as she sent a stuffed hen whizzing towards Dudley’s head. 

“Daisy!” her father thundered, ducking out of the way as the hen landed with a soft thump in the hallway.

“More, Daddy, more!” The unicorn now took flight and this one caught Dudley square in the forehead, sending Daisy into peals of laughter. 

Harry had to stifle his own laughter at his poor cousin frantically swatted away the unicorn as if it were a rogue Cornish pixie. 

“That’s NOT nice, Daisy,” Harry chided. “We don’t throw things at people.” 

“I didn’t throw them!” the toddler proclaimed defiantly, holding up her hands as if to emphasize that she had not picked up the toys with her hands and hurled them. 

Harry trained his green eyes on her and asked quietly, “Do you know how you moved them?” 

The little girl’s blue eyes widened. She stuck her lip out again and shook her head quickly. 

“The same way I do,” he replied. “Accio unicorn,” Harry commanded firmly, his eyes never leaving Daisy. He raised his hand to receive the plush toy as it rocketed into his grasp. 

Daisy’s eyes widened still further and she let out a little sound between a squeal and a shriek, whether from fear or excitement, Harry could not tell. 

“This is magic. You’re a witch Daisy, just like I am a wizard.” There. He had said the words. In his peripheral vision he could see Dudley slump into a chair, but he could not worry about him just yet. Harry recalled the moment Hagrid had said these words to him, the moment his life changed, the moment he learned the most outlandish, fantastical truth about the world, which made everything suddenly make sense. For various reasons, this revelation would not be as earth-shattering for Daisy, but, like any child of a Muggle family, it would be a demarcation point in her life and the lives of her parents, delineating Before and After. 

He smiled at the child. “Some people can do magic,” he explained simply. “Most people can’t, but some of us can.” She listened rapt, as he continued, “Usually people who can—we get this ability from other people in our family. My Mum, your great-aunt Lily, was the cleverest witch of her age. She was especially good at charms—at making things move and behave the way you just did with the toys.” Harry gently grasped her shoulder. “ You get this from your Aunt Lily,” he finished firmly, making sure the child understood. 

“Aunt Lily,” Daisy repeated dutifully, before squirming away and wandering over to rummage through a pile of dolls in her toy bin. 

“I expect you haven’t heard much about your Aunt Lily,” Harry said loudly, ostensibly in Daisy’s direction, but shooting an accusatory look back at Dudley, who squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, you’ll learn all about her now,” the wizard remarked, running a hand through his unruly mop of black hair. 

Harry turned back to the child and motioned her over to him. “Daisy, come here. This is important.” He made sure she was paying attention. “Do not ever use magic to hurt or scare someone else. Do you understand?” Daisy nodded solemnly but her mouth screwed up into a mischievous grin. 

“I mean it,” Harry said sternly. “No throwing things at people, no misbehaving…and your Dad is right. Don’t let other people see you doing this…not yet.” 

“OK,” the child promised. “But can I keep making my kitten?”

“Kitten?” Harry looked from Daisy to Dudley in confusion.

“She wants a kitten,” Dudley explained weakly. “So she has been…ah,” he trailed off, gesturing helplessly with his hands. 

Harry looked back to Daisy, who was holding a large baby doll. As her small brow knit in concentration, soft, fluffy patches of tabby fur emerged on the doll’s arms and legs, shimmering for a moment, then receding , then emerging again. 

“Transfiguration,” Harry muttered to himself. “Intentional, concentrated transfiguration.”

“Just…er…don’t let anyone else see for now, besides your Dad and me, OK?” he pressed.

“Okaaaaaay,” Daisy answered in a toddler singsong, her attention focused on her doll.

Her father rose from his chair. “Stay here and play for a while, sweetheart. Harry and I are going to talk downstairs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who is reading this. Please review!


	4. The Kids Are Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Dudley come to terms with having a magical child?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate you sticking with me to the very end--this story was a joy to write. Thank you for all the kind feedback. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! Wishing peace, love, joy and inspiration to all of you.

Harry scrambled up and followed Dudley out of the room. As the door shut behind them, and the full karmic absurdity of the situation hit him, Harry burst out laughing. Dudley---with a magical child. Petunia and Vernon (Vernon!) with a magical grandchild. Harry’s aunt and uncle so despised magic---and now their granddaughter, thanks to whatever magic carrier gene lived in Petunia’s veins, was a tiny humming hotspot of magical energy. Harry had visions of Daisy losing her temper one day and blowing Vernon up like a balloon to float helplessly through the neighborhood. 

The image made Harry laugh harder, until he caught his cousin’s stricken gaze as they entered the sitting room. Poor Dudley was plainly confused and frightened by his daughter’s abilities. His experiences with magic growing up with Harry were uniformly negative. And while some of them were his own fault, no one could blame Dudley for being wary. 

“I’m sorry, Dudley,” Harry choked as he struggled to regain his composure. “I don’t mean to laugh. But…I’m just thinking…of your parents,” he panted. “It’s pretty funny.” 

Dudley just looked more pained. “It’s not funny, Harry and you know it.” He lowered his voice. “Is it…is it even safe?” he asked urgently, his eyes darting up to Harry’s forehead. 

Harry’s near-hysterical laughter quieted gradually as he traced the scar that had drawn his cousin’s attention. “Yes, it’s safe now. It’s not like before. I promise, Dudley.”

He met Harry’s eyes awkwardly. He had never asked exactly how it had become safe. They both knew that Dudley didn’t really want to know and probably wouldn’t understand anyway. But Dudley did understand that the war, and the very hard-won victory which made the wizarding world safe for his daughter, had centered on Harry. He accepted his cousin’s reassurance and nodded in a gesture of appreciation.

So, Linda doesn’t know about Daisy?” Harry ventured.

“No!” Dudley answered quickly.

“Does Linda know about me?”

Dudley reddened. “Er, no…not exactly.”

“Right,” Harry quipped. “Well, I guess the dirty little family secret has to come out now, doesn’t it?” he finished, a bit more nastily than he had intended. 

Dudley opened his mouth to argue but then pursed his lips tightly and shut his eyes for a moment, giving a small shake of his head. “Look, I’m sorry, Harry. And I know on some level this is all quite hilarious for you, I get it. Have a good laugh; I suppose you’ve earned it. But I’m frightened. And Linda is going to be frightened. And Mum and Dad…bloody hell, they are going to go mental.” He looked back up at Harry. “You’re the only one I can turn to. What do we do with her?” he asked, panic rising in his voice. “How do we prepare her? How do we keep her safe? How do we keep ourselves safe? What do we tell our parents? What happens when she goes to school?”

“Dudley, Dudley, calm down!” Harry shouted, grasping his cousin by his large, meaty shoulders. “This happens all the time---magical children born into Muggle families. You learn, you adjust.” He caught Dudley’s frantic eyes. “Our grandparents were quite happy to learn their daughter was a witch! Confused, at first, I’m sure…but they sorted it out.” 

A flash of memories, not his own, raced through his mind—a woman and man beaming with curiosity and wonder as they walked their boisterous red haired daughter and her best friend, a pale, wary black haired boy, down a bustling train platform--their blonde daughter trailing behind, her eyes clouded with pain and envy; a spray of holly, whipped out of thin air for a Christmas party, as the woman cried out in delight and hugged the now-taller red haired girl close, the same pale young man watching solemnly from the edge of the family—unwanted in his own home, uncomfortable in hers but content to simply be near her. 

Harry swallowed hard as the images washed over him, quickly evaporating like morning mist. He squeezed Dudley’s shoulders quickly before dropping his hands. 

He sighed. “Look--when does Linda get back?” 

“Monday afternoon,” Dudley replied quickly.

Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair, running through his family’s diary in his head. 

“Right.” Harry adjusted his glasses. “Ginny and I can come round on Wednesday night. Are you and Linda free then?”

“Yes—yes, that works,” his cousin exclaimed, relief flooding his features. “Come round for dinner and…and…”

“A chat,” Harry finished for him. “A very long…very weird chat.”  
The two men just looked at each other for a moment, and then they both burst out laughing until Dudley’s eyes watered and Harry choked and they both had to sit down before they fell down.

“Listen,” Harry gasped, after a few moments. “I should get going. I promised Lily I’d play some one-on-one Quidditch with her in the back garden before dinner.”

Dudley, wiping his eyes, stared at him quizzically. 

“Quidditch,” Harry cried. “You know, the Chasers have to get the Quaffle past the Keeper, while the Seeker flies around looking for the…” He stopped and dissolved into another peal of hysterical laughter. “Oh God, of course you don’t know---but you will!” Harry continued chuckling as he picked up his coat and moved to the door. “You will!” he promised. 

Dudley still looked pale but calmer and more relaxed than when Harry had first arrived. As he opened the door, he extended his hand to his cousin. “Thanks, Harry,” he said, sincerely. “Thanks—for everything.” 

Déjà vu washed over Harry as he took Dudley’s hand. “It’s going to be alright, you know. I mean, yes, your parents will go absolutely mental.” They both grinned. “But you and Linda will be alright. Daisy will be alright,” he stressed. “Ginny and the kids and I—we’ll help you; we’ll be here.” He paused before adding simply, “We’re family.” 

Because for perhaps the first time, ever, Harry actually did feel like Dudley was his family. 

Harry smiled. “All will be well,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and please review!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please review!


End file.
